


Reflection

by Butterfly



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always the Opposite Sex, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-12-12
Updated: 2007-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail Jackson's life, in pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. theory

"The mirror is capable of tapping into literally any kind of reality that we could imagine and an infinite number that we could never predict," Sam said, looking over the specs yet again. She'd done that so many times over the course of these experiments that Abigail found it hard to believe that Sam hadn't memorized them already.

"But, in theory, the universes that come up first should be close to ours, right?" Abigail said, frowning. "So, why am I male in every reality that we've seen? Shouldn't those possibilities be further away?"

"Not necessarily." Sam turned towards Abigail, her eyes lighting up as she thought out loud. "If the you in this universe has consistently made choices that are more like those of the majority of male Doctor Jacksons and if everything else in the universe is more closely aligned, there's no reason why it should make a difference. The kicker is, it's entirely possible that you would be able to go through the mirror into any of these realities and live there indefinitely -- because you are _not_ identical to any other Doctor Jackson that we've run across."

"I'm so glad that you and Rodney are the ones handling this. Mirror theory makes my head hurt and you two are the only people who can even begin to explain it," Abigail said, pulling off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. "Now, I can almost make sense of the genetic thing, but why did that other Doctor Jackson's code work on our iris?"

"Chaos theory might help explain that," Sam said, pulling up a new page. Abigail looked over at it and then parted her lips slightly as she noticed the time in the corner of the screen.

"It's nine already," she said, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. "I told Jack I'd be there by eight."

Sam looked over at her, realization dawning in her eyes. "That's today?"

"That's today," Abigail said, reaching over to give Sam a brief hug before she pulled away from the work table. She still had to run to her lab and grab a few things. "We'll talk later," she promised Sam, and then darted out the door.


	2. asylum

"You can't expect me to just leave," Abigail said, pushing away from Jack.

"Yes, I can," Jack said, letting her go. He handed her the control for the mirror and she glanced down -- he'd already preset it to find a reality where Earth was free from the Goa'uld. “You still have a job to do, Doctor Jackson, and promises to keep."

"Jack," she said softly, but she'd already ceded this battle to him, months ago. She bit her lip, hoping she could be as brave as Jack always thought she was. He was right, after all. With the gate still off-line, they had no other options, and she was the only person that they knew for certain would survive the forty-eight hour window. "I don't-"

"Make sure that this doesn't happen wherever you end up going," Jack said, his voice husky with all the words that he'd never say. Abigail nodded, pressing down and watching the control light up. She looked over at the mirror and saw a cold and dark room. No, the walls were rough and her eyes had been a little blurry -- it was a cave. Didn't really matter, though -- she had her GDO and she'd never forget how to dial home.

Abigail heard a loud rumble and the lights flickered -- the ship was landing on the mountain.

"I'll do my best," she said, looking over at Jack, whose eyes were dark and shuttered -- closing down already. Abigail reached out to touch his face, Jack's skin warm against her hand. "It was an honor, General O'Neill."

Jack shivered as he pulled back, and the mountain shuddered. The attack was beginning and they both knew that Jack needed to be there for the last fight. He reached forward, sliding a note in the pocket of her vest, hand quick and impersonal, and Abigail felt a tight aching longing in her chest.

"See you around," Abigail said, trying for a light and self-assured tone. Jack smiled slightly, and she knew that he understood. She turned away and walked towards the mirror. She reached toward it, stopped before she touched it, waiting for just a moment, waiting for Jack.

"Goodbye, Abigail," Jack said gently, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, reaching out to touch the mirror, the familiar jolt of transference running through her body. She looked up and watched the reflection of Jack leave that other room, P-90 already in his hands. She turned the control off, the tiny sound loud in the silence of this place, and watched as the mirror turned gray and empty.

She'd never see her home again.


	3. Jack

"My report says ten thousand," said a man behind her. Abigail turned around to get a look at the guy who was willing to rely on clearly faulty numbers.

Huh, not bad, actually. Not really her type, but not bad.

He looked standard asshole military -- stood up so straight that he couldn't be anything _but_ military, like he had a ruler stapled to his spine. He had an ugly flattop haircut that did nothing for his face, empty and dark brown eyes, and a very bored expression. Asshole military, definitely… but he did look good in blue.

"Colonel," said the man who'd taken her down into the mountain, coming to attention. Colonel -- that was pretty high up there, then. Not General but not too far off, maybe. He had more than a few colorful medals on his chest, so he'd obviously done a lot of things that the military had found admirable. A _career_ military asshole, then.

"Do I know you?" Catherine asked, which made the guy new to more than just Abigail.

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, from General West's office," he said. "I'll be taking over from now on."

His eyes swept the room without pausing anywhere and then he turned to the man next to him, Abigail's guide. She'd felt an odd chill when his gaze passed over her, like he was classifying her as irrelevant. And that was something that she would deal with eventually, if she stayed here to translate. Abigail wasn't entirely sure she'd want to work with this guy -- on the other hand, her choices at the moment were pretty limited.

Abigail turned to the woman she'd just met -- Barbara Shore -- and quietly asked her what she'd been thinking since the man showed up. "Where did he come up with the figure 'ten-thousand'? Egyptian culture didn't even exist-"

"I know," Barbara interrupted Abigail, a quietly excited look on her face. "But the sonic and radio carbon tests are conclusive."

"These are cover stones," Abigail said, because that much was already obvious to any idiot. "Was there a tomb underneath?"

"No, no, no," Barbara said, her face lit up with energy. "But we found something much more interesting."

"Excuse me," Colonel O'Neill said, for the first time looking directly at Abigail. "This information has become classified." He turned back to his… subordinate. "From now on no information is to be passed on to non-military personnel without my express permission."

The other man nodded, they both left the room, and Abigail found herself more and more baffled. Why bring her here and then refuse to tell her anything? This order had to be specifically for her -- the rest of the Egyptologists seemed to know everything already. Why was the military so interested in this? What was it that the military didn't want her to know?

"Catherine, what's going on here?" someone asked -- Gary something. The guy who'd trusted Budge, which just illustrated Abigail's point about the naivete and the trust in tradition that had absolutely infiltrated the entire community of archeologists, particularly Egyptologists, making it hard for them to see past what had already been done.

"I'm not sure," Catherine answered and then she left, hopefully to go find out what the hell was going on.

Well, this was just getting more complicated by the minute. At this rate, Abigail might have to stick around just to see what would happen next.


	4. still alive

Jack had his head buried in his hands. He wasn’t crying, Abigail could tell, but he wanted to, and when he was out of the mountain, he might even let himself. She stood by the door, waiting for him to say something.

"Prometheus picked up the Stargate." His words were flat. Just relaying information, ma'am. She took a step forward and he looked up, his pained eyes meeting hers. "They'll have it back in Cheyenne Mountain before the day is out."

"Nobody will think less of you for not wanting to do it, Jack," she said softly. Just here, with just the two of them, Jack let his grief show on his face, but she knew he'd have that impenetrable military façade strapped securely on before he left his office. "Sam-"

"I killed them, Abigail," Jack interrupted, voice low and clear. "I should have..."

"What, Jack?" she asked after he trailed off, her hands in loose fists at her sides, hating that her political instincts came so naturally, but knowing that she needed them now more than ever. "What could you have done? Who else could you have sent? They knew the risks."

"Normally, you're not the one arguing the military party line," he said, looking away from her, toward the pictures on his wall. She didn’t have to look at them to know that the dead outnumbered the living.

"They knew the risks," Abigail said, not letting Jack change the subject. "Sam knew what she was doing."

"It doesn't make it any easier when I remind myself that she died in the service of her country. Her world," Jack said, with a tired shake of his head. "And the kid… hell, I shouldn’t have let him go. I should have-" Jack cut himself off with an impatient gesture and she remembered the aching, helpless look on his face when Pendergast had asked for his order. Knowing that to hold off might lose the Stargate and kill millions of Jaffa, but firing on that ship would be killing Sam and McKinley.

"I know, Jack. I know," Abigail said, letting her own grief color her words. "But this is bigger than you and me. I'm sorry."

Jack nodded, accepting her apology and what she was saying. "So am I. I just… wish there could have been another way." He stood, coming around his desk and reaching out to run his hand down her arm. Which one of them was he trying to comfort? "You're right. They need me… they need _us_ out there."

"The friendly faces of the Stargate Program," Abigail said, reminding him of the president's words. "Showing everyone that civilian and military interests coincide when it comes to protecting our planet and reaching out to new worlds."

Jack let out a slow breath, pulling all his grief back under that mask of his. "We really are great for PR."


	5. the seeds

"So, in conclusion, we requested and were granted permission to send a team to Abydos to study their culture and any technology that may have been left behind by the alien. We were also given charge of that team," Jack said to General West, with his career military asshole mask firmly in place. It was nice to know that it _was_ a mask.

"You're damn lucky that we didn't court-martial you for disobeying orders, airman," the General said, but he was clearly more bark than bite, and he'd already lost. The Abydonians were genetically human, stolen from Earth centuries ago, and Jack had been sent to kill them with a bomb rigged not to shut off. Jack had explained to Abigail that missions were just like that sometimes, but that had been before she'd gotten Catherine involved. Catherine might still be off the project, but she hadn't lost her Washington connections. Once the President had received some new information on the project, he'd very firmly showed himself to be in their corner. Abigail _would_ be going back to Abydos, and she'd be taking Barbara Shore with her, while the administration screened several other people that Abigail had suggested for the project.

"Yes, sir," Jack agreed, a little too cheerfully. The first time that she'd met him, Abigail would have sworn that the man lacked any sense of humor, but he'd been a sarcastic wiseass for the last four months. "Damn lucky, sir."

And it was hard for Abigail to be annoyed. It was good to see him smiling… well, smirking. After they'd blown up Ra, he'd said something about hoping his wife Sara would give him another chance, but when they'd gotten back to Earth, she'd already been gone.

She'd left divorce papers on the kitchen table.

So, Jack had prepared papers of his own and now, six months later, they'd finally been cleared, the Air Force more than happy to send Jack O'Neill and his handpicked team along with her, as a safety and security force. Possibly just to get him out of their hair. West, on the other hand, was wiping his hands of the whole project -- it didn't look good when your people went over your head.

Abigail had had to work fast and dirty to keep Jack from getting in trouble. Not that he'd thanked her, of course.


	6. as a savior

There was a loud cough just outside her room, and Abigail looked up to see Skaara's head poking through the opening. "You are… decent?" he asked uncomfortably. It had been the Abydonians' idea to speak in English as often as possible, to 'learn the words of the god-killer'. Honestly, the thought made Abigail more than a little uncomfortable, but the only Abydonian who would let her carry out long conversations in their dialect of Ancient Egyptian was Skaara's older sister, Sha'uri.

"Yes, Skaara," she answered, though what good it was, asking her after he'd already looked, completely escaped her.

"O'Neill has returned through the chaapa'ai and wishes to speak with you," Skaara said, practically wriggling with excitement. Ah, that would explain why he was in such a hurry. He wanted to get a chance to spend more time with his hero. The sooner Jack talked to her, the sooner he could go spend time with the kids.

"Tell Jack that I'll be there in a minute." Abigail opened up her filing cabinet, searching for that report on the cartouche that they'd discovered last week. There was an alien device there, definitely connected to the Stargate, but she needed to get Sam over here this week, not next month. There was just too much to do. Abigail had to start translating the symbols on the walls, though she already had a pretty good idea of what they were. And someone had to look at that device.

"As you would have it, Abigail," Skaara said. When she glanced up, he was still there, staring at her. She waved a hand at him and he backed off with a bow. She really should do something about that, but the last time she'd asked him to stop, he'd asked her, quite plaintively, why she did not desire to be honored as she deserved. It was… hard to argue with people who just wanted to show you how much they admired you.

Once she'd found the report, she glanced over it one last time, checking for errors. She was able to get in almost fifteen minutes of editing before she was interrupted again.

"Brought you a gift," Jack said cheerfully as he pushed into the tent. Abigail glanced up at him, torn between protesting at her lack of privacy and admitting that she'd forgotten about going to meet him. "Military-issue, but this one's different. It'll switch between Earth and Abydonian time. Nifty, huh?"

He tossed the box at her and grinned when she almost fumbled the catch. She opened it and… wow, it was a nice watch, with lots of little buttons. She lifted up the bottom of the box and, sure enough, there was a thick instruction manual under there, which explained why the box had been so heavy.

"They almost didn't let me in here," he continued. "Skaara finally managed to convince them that it would be okay. It's a little like talking to a cult out there."

"I know." Abigail sighed in frustration. "Anthro wasn't my specialty and I didn't even think about what I was doing to their culture until it was already too late for… a lot. I was so excited about learning their language and finding out first-hand what things were really used for. I treated them like a bunch of under-grads on a dig and now they're used to it."

"Used to doing what you tell them." It was a surprisingly non-judgmental tone of voice. "They don't question a thing you say."

"I wish they would," Abigail said, reaching out to rub her fingers over a small glazed pot, only the least of the treasures she had found and yet it had told her so much. How much more would she have learnt, if she hadn’t blundered around _changing_ things, changing the way the Abydonians saw and related to the universe? “Believe me, Jack, I really wish they would.”


	7. My Sam

"What I want to know, _sir_ ," the woman's voice had an edge that almost sounded like glass could be cut on it. Abigail wondered if someone could be reprimanded for their tone of voice. "Is why I wasn't asked to come back to the mountain once the secret of the Doorway was unlocked."

Abigail wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to go into the office in the middle of that discussion, but she did need to talk to General Stafford and his secretary had given her the go-ahead. She knocked softly, then pushed the door open after the General called out for her to come in.

A blonde woman glanced towards her, stiffness not melting the smallest bit. If anything, her back seemed to get straighter.

"What is it, Doctor Jackson?" General Stafford asked, running his hand over his receding hairline. The wrinkles around his eyes were deeper than usual, so this might not be the best time to bring up what was rapidly becoming one of the touchiest issues at Cheyenne. But she still needed that hard scientist specialist at some point. Right now, she had her hopes on getting Doctor Lee, who came very highly recommended. The only problem would be getting security clearance for him; the project was still under such strict military guidance that it was hard to get a green light on civilians.

"I was wondering if you'd had a chance to review my list of potentials for the science and social side of things," Abigail said. Part of her wanted to say something to the female soldier, at least a hello, but she really didn't want to get on Stafford's bad side again. Right now, he was her only way back to Abydos. There had to be a way to extend the two-week surveys. She needed more time, needed to be able to truly dive into the culture.

"I have. It's under consideration," Stafford said, congenially enough. "Actually, this was the perfect time for you to get here, Doctor. I'd like you to meet Captain Samantha Carter. She's also an astrophysicist, which was on your list of requests, as I recall."

"It was," Abigail acknowledged. She turned towards Captain Carter and held out her hand. There was a second of hesitation, and then Captain Carter shook her hand firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And it's an honor to meet you, Doctor Jackson," Captain Carter said, finally starting to soften a little around the edges. "We were working on those symbols for years before they brought you in. It's good to finally meet the person who opened the Door… the Stargate."

"Thank you," Abigail said. She paused, biting her lip before deciding to give it a try. "And I'd like it if you called me Abigail."

Captain Carter smiled slightly, and Abigail began to believe that she could work with this woman. "I go by Sam."


	8. he'd understand

“What part of ‘no’ do you people not understand? I thought I was working with scientists, actual scientists, not mindless, uncreative, American _drones_.”

And now Abigail was beginning to see what Colonel Reynolds had meant when he’d said that she’d have no problem finding Doctor McKay. His voice... carried.

Reynolds had reported that McKay had taken to studying the gate system with an almost ferocious passion, and that he had a remarkable grasp of the way it worked, considering that he’d never seen the gate itself. If she really was going to take over all civilian study, she’d need McKay.

Still, she entered the lab with a bit of caution.

It was easy to pick McKay out, since he was still ranting and raving about the apparent stupidity of his colleagues. He’d left the subject of their citizenship behind and was now berating their parents for allowing them such a woefully inadequate education.

Abigail remembered that Reynolds had also mentioned, several times, that he’d never met a more abrasive, unwelcoming man than Rodney McKay.

Of course, the good Colonel had never faced down Apophis, so Abigail had a bit of a jump on him there. And the simple truth was that McKay was the leading civilian expert on the gate, and with the new, very firm division between the sciences and the military, she couldn’t rely on Sam all the time. Abigail didn’t have a choice about keeping McKay, therefore, she would learn how to handle him.

“Doctor McKay,” Abigail said, cutting into his tirade. “Is there a problem?”

The man turned to her, blue eyes sharpening to cold ice. In that moment, he looked fully capable of flaying people alive, as the Colonel had claimed.

“Is there…” he trailed off, waving a hand toward the other three scientists in the room. Two looked cowed, but the third looked like she was hiding the tiniest smile of amusement. Abigail decided to take that as a hopeful sign, and prayed that the woman wasn’t just a masochist. “No, there isn’t any _one_ problem, Ms… who the hell are you, anyway? What are you doing in my lab? Who authorized this interruption? Was it Reynolds? Well, you can just tell him that I don’t _want_ to move to Cheyenne Mountain.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Abigail said, doing her best to be sincere. “But, unfortunately, it’s that or leave the program entirely.”

McKay’s chin lifted in defiance. Abigail stared back patiently. One of the scientists behind McKay – the tall, weedy blond -- started to inch toward a second door over in the corner. McKay pointed a trembling finger in his direction and the man froze in place.

“I’m not done with you, Rickman,” McKay said, though his gaze never wavered from Abigail. Rickman retreated back to the huddle of scientists, and McKay stalked towards Abigail. “Who are you?” he asked, and he didn’t sound _quite_ as dismissive as he had a moment ago. “Because you aren’t acting like a messenger boy.”

“I’m Doctor Jackson,” Abigail said, with a smile.

“The _archeologist_ ,” McKay said and the word was infused with disdain. “The woman who is entirely responsible for this unnecessary additional stress in my already overly-frustrating life. Well, it’s simply an incomparable thrill.”

“It’s an opportunity,” Abigail said, just barely managing to hold onto her smile. “To study the gate in person.”

“Why would I need to do that?” Rodney asked. “I have a perfectly acceptable simulation in that computer right over there.”

“You don’t want to see the Stargate,” Abigail said, her tone flattening out slightly. “You don’t want to test your theories.”

“Hello, did you notice the word ‘practical’ in front of my title?” Rodney asked and then barreled on. “No, because, you see, the word that goes in front of astrophysicist is _theoretical_. I’m a theoretical astrophysicist, Doctor Jackson. I enjoy being one. I like numbers, I like computer simulations. I do _not_ like placing my life in jeopardy every five minutes, the way you all seem love to do over at Stargate.”

“Doctor McKay, no one is asking you to risk your life,” Abigail said. McKay continued to glare at her, and he seemed to be seconds away from talking. Again. “We just want to keep your expertise in the program.”

“No, you want me to completely disrupt my life and my work,” McKay said. “You want me to move to a place where aliens roam free-“

“Aliens do not roam free at Cheyenne Mountain,” Abigail said, blinking.

“Teal’c,” McKay said with an air of doom. “A supposed enemy turn-coat that everyone trusts simply because he hasn’t betrayed us _yet_.”

Abigail felt her mouth drop open.

“And then there’s the Asgard, who think nothing of randomly _beaming out_ people,” McKay continued, his voice lifting to what Abigail, personally, was thinking of as a whine. “Really, how am I supposed to feel safe in a place like that?”

“I suppose that’s what all the soldiers are for,” Abigail said sweetly. “To protect the poor, defenseless scientists from the big, bad aliens who want to ask us for our help.”

“Very cute,” McKay said, with a little twist to his mouth that implied he thought nothing of the kind. “Anyway, I’m not coming with you. I’m going back to Canada.”

He turned away from her, as if dismissing her completely from his thoughts.

Abigail put her folder of papers down on the nearest table, and grinned when he _almost_ looked over his shoulder to see what she was doing.

“Well, let me know if you get tired of the snow,” she said. McKay twitched, and she had to admire him for being stubborn enough to ignore ranting bait like that. “The program could use you, McKay.”

McKay just folded his arms together, still carefully not looking in her direction.

“I hate to think that we’ll have to settle for second-best,” Abigail said, and McKay muttered something too low for her to catch. “Though I suppose he’ll soon _be_ the best, with you taken out of the field of competition.”

McKay snorted, and Abigail saw Rickman, the weedy scientist, shift uncomfortably, still looking like he wanted to bolt out of the room.

“Well, there’s no point in wasting any more time here,” Abigail said, decisively. “It was a pleasure, Doctor McKay.”

McKay didn’t move.

Abigail studied him for a moment and then turned to leave, still smiling.

She had a feeling that she’d be hearing from Doctor McKay.


	9. who else

Abigail still felt slightly numb, thinking about what Jack had said. She did her best to concentrate on the most recent text recovered from 728, but she kept losing her place as her mind moved back to last night and she tried to figure out where things had gone wrong.

She'd just about given up on the translation when Sam burst into the office. She looked flushed and almost on the edge of tears, but she was smiling. Sam didn't seem to notice Abigail's current state of mind, which was a relief. Good news could only help.

"What happened?" Abigail asked. Sam leaned against the door, looking incredibly unprofessional and like she was so happy that she might burst.

"He said yes." Sam sounded giddy and sounded like she knew damn well that she _did_ sound giddy and simply didn't care.

"That's wonderful," Abigail said, getting up so that she could go give Sam a hug. Sam hugged her back tightly. "Did you set a date yet?"

"Not yet. We have to make sure that Dad can come," Sam said. They pulled away from each other and Sam's smile was still set on overdrive. "You're the first person that I've told."

Abigail smiled back, touched. She'd have thought that maybe Janet would have been… it was nicer than she'd have thought, being the first. Jack was right about the importance of friendship. She'd never really _gotten_ it before she'd realized how much she could have a lot in common with a die-hard military man.

"How did he react? Besides saying yes." Abigail had actually really enjoyed seeing Sam and Rodney get together. Almost felt like she'd been the one to do it, because if she hadn't stolen him from Area 51, they never would have had the chance to get to know each other so well. Did that make her a matchmaker even if it was completely unintentional?

"He got really red and surprised at first," Sam said. "Like the way he looked last Christmas when he accidentally had a piece of that lemon chicken Major Peil made."

"And we had to rush him to the hospital," Abigail recalled. He'd definitely looked like a man about to die.

"He almost choked on his salad," Sam said dreamily. "And then he asked me if I was being serious. When he saw the ring, he had to believe me. He's giving me a ring on Monday. Said he bought it a while back but he was afraid that I'd say no."

"You two…" Abigail said. She reached out to grab Sam's hand, lacing their fingers together, fiercely grateful to know Sam. She’d never realized before how wonderful having a… girlfriend could be. She'd gotten along with many women, but this warm certainty of shared affection was unlike anything that she'd known since… since before her parents had died. "I remember how nervous _you_ were last week when you bought that ring."

"I'm _still_ nervous," Sam said, squeezing Abigail's hand. "We disagree so much and I just know that he's wrong about that eighteenth safety protocol being necessary, but somehow it doesn't matter. I guess that maybe that's what love is, when you get right down to it."

Looking at Sam’s face, it was impossible to disagree.


	10. nothing but snakes

"They don't know yet whether or not she's waking up."

Rodney's voice startled Abigail and she looked away from Sam's still form to see him hovering in the doorway, awkwardly juggling a sandwich, a cup of mess coffee, and a newspaper. The infirmary lights made him look almost jaundiced, the yellow-white color of aged and misused paper.

"Doesn't make for much of an anniversary," Abigail said, resisting the urge to help Rodney as he made his way to a chair on the other side of Sam's bed. He'd just push her away. Even after more than three years of working together, he was still prickly when she dared to act like he might be as human as the rest of them. "I'm sorry, Rodney."

"Why?" Rodney asked, his tone carefully careless. "You didn't do anything."

"We'll find them," Abigail said, hoping that Rodney understood that this wasn't a light promise. They may not have been able to stop this from happening, but they _would_ make certain that they'd catch the sons of bitches responsible.

"Yeah," Rodney said, setting the coffee and sandwich on the table next to the bed. He started to pull apart the paper, looking for the business and science sections, the parts that he would read to Sam. "Because that'll make her all better."

Rodney had already clearly dismissed her from existence, so Abigail got up from her chair -- she couldn't do anything to help him. He wouldn't let her. And she still had to talk to Jack about how he was planning to locate Torbin's new host.

Before she left the infirmary, Abigail glanced back at Rodney, who was reading out an article on some kind of shifting weather pattern in a loud and cheerful voice, his gaze constantly shifting between the paper and Sam's face.

She could remember a day about half a year ago, when she'd watched the two of them in the mess, laughing and arguing about a theory. She could still remember the soft ache she'd felt, seeing how they'd managed to perfectly balance work and love. She'd felt a fierce desire to know how they did it, how they could manage it.

She’d never worked it out.

Abigail wiped at her eyes, carefully pushing her glasses back into place when she was done. She had to be strong for Jack -- he was the one who’d have to tell Mark that his father was dead and his sister was in a coma, without ever mentioning why. He’d need her; it'd be easier for him if she were there with him.

Being Jack’s friend had always been the easy part.


	11. old acquaintance

"Are you… breaking up with me?" Abigail asked. She carefully set down her notebook, giving Sarah her full attention. Sarah stood in the doorway, her curls swept up in another of those beautifully elegant hairstyles that she favored, and she clearly had no plans to come into Abigail's office. "I apologized about last night."

"If it were just last night, then it wouldn't be such an issue," Sarah said, her lilting English accent making even these words beautiful. She waved a hand at Abigail's desk, which was, yes, completely covered with artifacts and reports, but there hadn’t been a day when it _hadn’t_ looked that way. "Every time something new comes up, I get put off. I'm always second to your work."

"You aren't," Abigail said, standing up, her hands gripped around the edge of her desk. Sarah arched an eyebrow and waited. "It isn't… that you're second. I just get distracted. I'm not used to juggling my personal and professional lives like this."

"I'm not used to waiting, not anymore," Sarah said. "And I won't just wait for you to decide that I'm more interesting than your latest result from the lab."

"Sarah," Abigail said, hoping that inspiration would strike. She was out of luck.

"I thought it would be different with a woman," Sarah said, quietly. "That I wouldn't have to deal with the same old routine. You're worse than my last _boyfriend_."

She swept out of the office, not bothering to shut the door.

Abigail stared after her for a moment, and then glanced back down, where Doctor Langer’s report lay. He probably had no clue what his results meant when they were combined with a recent discovery in an established dig in Eygpt. No one else in the _world_ was bothering to put this information together, to see this pattern.

If she put this aside to chase after Sarah, it would be setting a precedent. That was something that she couldn’t afford to do, not at a delicate time like this. If only Sarah would understand how important, even earth-shattering, Abigail’s discoveries could be.

Eventually, she would. When Abigail had the chance to present her findings, they’d either admit to their failings or simply drum her out of academia.

Either way, Sarah would finally understand.


	12. five more minutes

“Five more minutes, Jack,” Abigail said, not needing to look up to know that it was him. Jack’s silence was somehow louder than anyone else’s.

“And what did you mean when you said those same words ten minutes ago?” Jack asked, voice thrumming with impatience. Abigail carefully signed one last form and moved it to her ‘out’ box. She heard Jack walk up behind her chair and she turned and smiled at him. The side of his mouth quirked, but the rest of his face stayed impassive.

“I know,” Abigail said, stretching in her chair. “I’m on leave, so I should probably leave the mountain at some point.”

“That’s the general idea,” Jack said.

Abigail glanced down at the pile of paperwork and then back at Jack.

“Okay, what are you trying to convince me is ‘fun’ today?” she asked.

“Oh, it isn’t me,” Jack said.

“Really?’ Abigail asked.

“The idea is mine, Abigail Jackson.” The deep rumble of a voice surprised her. She blinked and glanced around Jack’s shoulder and spotted Teal’c hovering in the doorway. He looked… nervous, in a way that she didn’t generally associate with him. “You are always attempting to learn of my culture and I would like to ‘return the favor’, as O’Neill would say.”

Jack held out a pamphlet and grinned in a suspiciously cheerful way.

“You want to go to Chicago?” Abigail asked, as she stared at the cheerful lettering inviting her to ‘Visit the Chicago Metropolitan Museum of Art and Science’. “To see a museum.”

“Your museum,” Jack said. Abigail glanced back down at the pamphlet and flipped it open, trailing her finger down the glossy pages, and there it was, a special Egyptian exhibit showing, with artifacts on loan from Northwestern University. Included were several items that she’d helped catalogue back in her grad student days with Doctor Jordan, though how they’d found out about them was beyond her.

“Do you believe that this would be an enjoyable experience?” Teal’c asked.

Abigail nodded, her throat tight.

“Then I believe it would be appropriate for me to offer felicitations for your day of birth,” Teal’c said.

“It’s not my birthday,” Abigail said. “Not for another three months.”

“Ah, but this is last year’s birthday gift,” Jack said, raising a finger. “Delayed on account of ascension.”

“Thank you,” Abigail said softly, blinking hard to keep back the sudden wetness in her eyes.

Jack shrugged it off, and gestured at her impatiently. “Get a move on. Carter isn’t good at waiting.”

"Major Carter is an exceptionally patient woman,” Teal’c said.

“Other Carter,” Jack said, with a slow smile. Like always, Abigail wasn’t really sure how to take Jack’s potshots at Rodney.

“How many people are going on this… field trip?” Abigail asked.

“Just us and the Carters,” Jack said. “And Doc Fraiser.”

“Because you’re all so interested in Egypt,” Abigail said.

“Right,” Jack said. “And, after, you can show us the hot spots of Chicago.”

Abigail stared at him, pushed her glasses back up on her nose so that she had a better angle, and then stared some more.

“Okay,” Jack relented. “We can get a hotel suite and all get drunk together.”

“Because that went so well last time,” Abigail muttered.

“Teal’c has some great pictures,” Jack said.

“Indeed,” Teal’c said, a tiny smile on his face.

“Fine, but I was forced into it,” Abigail said.

“Kicking and screaming,” Jack agreed.


	13. her hair is shorter

“Hey, if you don’t know the answer, I don’t know why you expect me to,” Rodney said irritably, slumping down in the chair next to Abigail’s, determinedly not looking at Janet. Abigail slipped her hand in his and his fingers tightened around hers immediately, squeezing for a moment before releasing to a more comfortable hold. “She hasn’t been sleeping. Why does that surprise anyone? She _was_ nearly killed, if you’ll care to recall.”

“No one is disputing that Sam’s had a rough time of it,” Janet said. “She’s just taking longer to recover than I’d like. Longer than she used to.”

“Well, it has been a while since she’s been in that kind of life or death situation,” Rodney snapped. “She got used to being safe. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is if it makes her afraid to go out there again.”

“Sam is the bravest person that I know,” Rodney said, not that there had ever been anything questionable about _his_ loyalties. “If she’s not ready, she’s not ready.”

“Ultimately, it’s not up to me or to you or even to Sam,” Janet said, not unkindly. She sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “General Stafford is retiring next month, and he’s been willing to be patient. Our new commander might not be so lenient.”

Rodney’s mouth tightened – probably at the reminder that Sam was military. He got along with the soldiers better than most of Abigail's scientists, but he’d been known to rail against small minds and how they asked for visions and projects that were far too narrow and petty in scope.

“If he proves not to be, Sam knows that she always has a place with SGR,” Abigail said quietly. “But you should know better than anyone why she might hesitate. How many of her bones were broken, Janet? She didn’t wake up for two weeks, and when she did, all she could talk about was her father. That mission almost killed her, in more ways than the obvious.”

“Sam knew the risks,” Janet said, gently but uncompromisingly military. “I’ll be honest with you, Abigail, we _need_ her out there. We need her expertise to deal with these supersoldiers.”

Rodney went very still and then pulled his hand out from under Abigail’s.

“I could go,” he said, his face pale and drawn. “We’ve always studied each other’s assignments – I can cover for her, until she’s ready to go out again.”

Abigail opened her mouth to use all of his arguments against him – he didn’t do field work, he did his best in abstract situations, he was prone to panic attacks – but changed her mind when she got a better look at his face. He looked terrified, yes, but he also looked more determined than she’d ever seen him.

This might be something that he needed.


End file.
